It is Sunday and the recovery is well under way. I have been home and not so well since I left work on Friday at 10:30. Somewhere between Wednesday and Friday morning I came down with some wicked cold/flu symptoms. Thursday I was sniffling and sneezing a bit, Friday I went to work with an eye that would not stop watering, and ear that crackled each time I moved my jaw, and bursts of coughing that would deprive me of enough oxygen that I would be dizzy for twenty or thirty seconds after the fit was over. I called Jenni and asked her to contact our Doctor in Cumberland, within minutes I had an appointment text show up on the iPhone. I informed the powers that be that I was going to see the doctor and expecting to get a shot. I picked up Jenni so that she could have the car for a return trip and to continue her work day. At home I didn't have much time before the time. I started the truck and let it warm up for a bit, then headed off to see the wizard, or shaman or medicine man.
My Daily Bread, O.K. so I exaggerate, but...To get a quick appointment at a Doctor's office actually means to get an opportunity to spend a lot of time at the Doctor's office. When I arrived I had a fever of about a hundred and just over a hundred fifty pages left in the Brisingr book I have been reading for a couple of weeks off and on. When I got behind the reception wall, the, hey I've been called to a higher plane call I had about 95 pages to go. A nurse followed me into the rome and did the inner ear temperature reading, and the blood pressure arm smashing and the embarrassing weight gain mention. I grabbed the kleenex box from the other side of the desk and dug back into the final chapters of the book after her departure. When the Doctor walked in I marked the page with one of my Roberts business cards and began to tell my story of woe and dread. The Doctor told me I was to sick to get a shot, since the shot's themselves take you down before building you up. Thirty five minutes later I was at the pharmacy counter at Meijer with three (prescriptions) scripts., which I was told should take about 30 minutes. I bought movies and oranges and orange juice and
Zicam while waiting. The Movies
Tropic Thunder, Hancock and
Hellboy 2 were watched in that order over two nights counting and today. After Meijer my next stop was Wally World for my last script, a $4 medicine. A colossal sphere with hands at the Wally drop off counter
and told me it would be 45 minutes. I went back to the Truck, grabbed the book and walked to the Steak and Shake across the parking lot. There Kathy made me feel right at home, I had 5 way Chili with cheesy fries on the side and a diet Cherry Coke. She even brought me extra napkins for my draining nasal passages and my sorry red weeping eye. While dining the iPhone counted down the minutes until I could retrieve my final meds and go home and finally rest. Kathy must have thought I was reading a very sad book because she asked what I was reading. When I said it is the third book in the Eragon Cycle I must have said it in the Ancient Language or in a Dwarfish dialect because she comprehended not a wit.
IPhone alarms and I'm back in Wally's arms. At the payment first window I stood and waited for 10 minutes to say and pay. Next they sent me consultation window to consult with a pharmacist who was currently consulting with a phone caller for another 10 or more minutes. Eventaully she came over, picked up the pouch and said, "Mr. Pace?"
"Yup." I said with a weeping eye and a sore throat and stuffy nose. This is amoxicillin, have you taken it before? "Yup."
"Do you have any questions for me?" "Nope."
Three and a half hours after I pushed through the door and into the Doctors office I was in the truck and heading home. I looked forward to crashing. Which first meant walking Charlie. Then putting the tea pot on, then taking a barrage of medicines, putting on sweats, making the tea. Walking Charlie again because he was sure it was time. I was on the couch for less than an hour when Jenni came home. I finished the book.
Chuck Pace ©2008
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